I know it’s been a while. But I thought today was the best day to share a little something personal – of my grief of losing my mother and how her flowers gave me the courage to go to the first, second, and now third No Kings Day.
I had never been to a rally/protest before. And quite scared of going. But what I found at No Kings was a gathering of kindness and a compassionate community. And a ton of cars honking in support. All while I held in my hands a bouquet of my mother’s flowers.
We’ll get to the poem in a second. But first, if you’re unsure of going, check out the map. Suburban and rural areas usually have roadside rallies where you can drive by and honk in support.
And once you see the smiling faces with their hands waving at you, well, maybe you’ll have the courage to find a parking spot and join us for a little while.
Just look at the map at www.NoKings.org, find a rally, and commit (if you have a car) to simply drive by and honk in support.
For those of you already going, I’ll be out there today too, with you, and as you’ll read in the poem, out there with my dead mother holding my hand.
These Flowers Are Not For My Mother’s Grave
by Kay Ann Kestner
I bring flowers –
red, white, and blue –
not to her grave
but to the roadside
where the voices
of better angels
breathe life
back into the lungs
of democracy.
This rally is life-support
to counter a cruel tyrant
as he tries to strangle
freedom from our country.
At every No King’s Day
I bring my dead mother’s flowers –
red, white, and blue –
that for years she used to
adorn the windowsill
each Memorial, Independence,
and Flag Day.
At each rally, I carry
my mother’s flowers
and silently promise her
that I will not sit back
and let our democracy
slip away.
Standing peacefully side by side
in a mile-long line of courage
along a busy road,
cars honking in support.
In one hand, I hold a sign,
with the other, I grip tight
to the stems of my
mother’s flowers
and it feels like
she’s holding my hand.
Kay Kestner 